


Belladonna Kiss

by robinwritesallthefanfiction



Category: The Salvation (2014)
Genre: Breathplay, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Murder, Nudity, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 10:32:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8664334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthefanfiction/pseuds/robinwritesallthefanfiction
Summary: Bella Tofana is Henry Delarue’s girl, and Henry Delarue is not a man to be crossed.





	

Henry thrust into her one more time, groaning as he finished. Bella bit her lip, the sheet clenched between her fists, relaxing only when he rolled off of her and onto his back. Once he was settled, he reached out, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her soft warmth into his side. She put one hand on his chest, using the other to gently stroke his hair just the way she knew he liked. It was only a few moments before he was sound asleep and snoring comfortably.

Bella waited a while longer just to be safe. When she was absolutely sure that he was completely out, she moved.

She grabbed her dark purple skirt and white lace chemise from the floor, pulling them on hastily. She only needed a few minutes. Luckily, Henry had left the window open because it was summer and the room was stuffy. She slipped out onto the second floor balcony and quickly made her way down the back stairs, glancing around to make sure no one saw her.

Sneaking behind the buildings to the sheriff’s station, she peeked through the back window to confirm that only Sheriff Huntley was inside. “You can do this,” Bella whispered softly to herself. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the back door open and stepped into the dark hallway. She purposely shut the door behind her loudly enough for the sheriff to hear.

Sheriff Huntley’s hand flew to his gun belt and he turned, squinting into the darkness. “Who’s there?” he asked warily. Bella moved forward, stepping into the dim light of the lamp on his desk.

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Everyone recognized Henry Delarue’s girl, even if they’d never seen her before. She was… distinctive.

The sheriff’s hand fell away from his belt as he took her in, his eyes widening. You didn’t look too closely at her when she was with him; everyone knew that. You didn’t call her by her name, either; she was Henry Delarue’s girl, and that was all. But now she was alone in front of him, and it was impossible not to stare.

She was short, no more than five feet tall, but she had curves like a winding river. Her skirt clung tightly to her hips and thighs so he could see their shape, and her flimsy chemise barely covered her large, heaving breasts. She had her dark brown hair pulled over one shoulder in tousled waves. His eyes eventually moved to her face, his gaze gliding over her full pink lips, the delicate curve of her nose, and finally coming to rest on her famous smoky purple eyes. He had thought that the stories must have been exaggerations, but they were most definitely not.

Her skin was perfect and porcelain, marred only by the large bruise in the clear shape of a handprint that circled her throat. The purple eyes were rare, but that handprint was one of a kind. That was how you really knew who she belonged to.

“You’re Henry Delarue’s girl,” Sheriff Huntley finally said, taking a step toward her. “What do you need, honey?”

She bit her plump lower lip, taking a deep shuddering breath as a tear fell down her cheek. “I need help,” she told him, her voice small and quivering. “He hurts me.”

The admission was simple, but effective, yet the sheriff didn’t answer her immediately. His expression was reluctant. Henry Delarue was not a man to be crossed.

Bella clutched her skirt in her hands and glanced to her side. She spotted a bottle of whiskey and a single glass on the table to her right and walked over it, turning her back to him. Sheriff Huntley was momentarily distracted by what was visible of her smooth back and shoulders.

He drew in his breath and stood up straighter as she shrugged the straps of her chemise down her arms so the garment pooled at her waist. When she turned around, she was holding the glass, now half-full of whiskey. It rested gently against her bare breast, right next to her rosy nipple.

“I’ll give you anything you want if you help me,” she promised, her eyes pleading. He was tempted; it was an almost irresistible offer. He walked over to her, staring unapologetically at her naked chest.

“All right, ma’am,” he finally said. “Tell me what you need.”

She sighed in relief and pressed the glass of whiskey into his hand, running her fingers up and down his arm. She was close enough for her nipples to brush against his jacket. “For courage,” she said. He nodded, taking the glass from her and drinking it down. Then he set the glass on the desk behind him and reached for her.

Bella put her hands on his chest, pushing him away. “I have to go back, or he’ll wake up and find me gone,” she whispered. “Tomorrow. He has a meeting with the other town officials. I can get away then.” Sheriff Huntley nodded, entranced by her graceful form as she furtively darted out the back door.

****

Back in their room, Bella slipped her clothes off and let them fall back to the floor before crawling back into the bed beside Henry. He grunted as he threw his arm around her again, but he didn’t wake up.

She curled into his side, trying to relax enough to fall asleep.

****

The next morning, Bella woke slowly to the sound of footsteps running up and down the stairs. Henry growled and rolled out of the bed, opening the door of their room and sticking his head out into the hallway. “What the hell is going on?” he rumbled.

“Sheriff’s dead,” a man replied. “He collapsed in the station sometime late last night or early this morning. But we’ll be ready for your meeting on time, Mr. Delarue.” Henry nodded curtly in response, shutting the door and turning to lean against the frame.

Bella sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts, keeping her eyes down. Henry pushed away from the wall, coming over to her and grasping her chin in his long fingers.

“Look at me, Bella,” he said. She raised her face eagerly, biting her lip as she looked up at him.

“He said he’d help you?” Henry asked. 

She nodded in response. “Yes, sir.” Her voice was breathy with excitement.

“And no one saw you?”

“No one saw me, sir,” she confirmed.

A smile slowly spread across his gruff face, and Bella couldn’t help smiling back in response. He smiled so rarely.

He tugged the sheet down with his free hand, baring her body and cupping a breast in his palm, feeling her nipple harden. He loved the contrast of her smooth skin against his own, which was rough.

Henry slid his fingers from her chin into her disheveled hair, gripping it hard and drawing her head toward him as she swung her legs off of the bed so he could stand between them. “Go ahead, honey,” he urged her in a low, coarse voice.

She put her hands on his hips, pushing his long underwear down just enough so his hard cock sprang free. She bunched his long-sleeved undershirt up his stomach so her fingers could play with the trail of dark hair on his belly as she leaned forward and took him into her mouth.

Bella loved pleasing Henry like this. He didn’t let her do it often, since he preferred being inside her. She knew she was being rewarded for a job well done. “My good little girl,” he murmured, watching her lips meet the patch of curls between his legs. She shivered in delight; she liked being praised.

She hollowed her cheeks, taking him deep into her throat, humming in pleasure as he hissed, his cock twitching in her mouth. His long fingers circled her nipple as she sucked, coaxing it into a tight peak. After another minute, he tightened his hand in her hair and drew her back. “That’s enough, sweetheart,” he told her, and she obeyed, drawing back, her lips swollen and her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“Lay down,” he ordered. She slid back into the center of the bed, resting her head on the pillows. Henry discarded his shirt before joining her, resting his weight on top of her. “Let me hear you, Bella,” he stated, taking the nipple he’d been teasing into his mouth, tugging it between his teeth before sucking on it hard.

Bella tangled her hands in Henry’s rumpled brown hair, crying out his name as he sucked on one breast and then the other, rolling her nipples between his dexterous fingers. He knew she understood how pleased he was with her; he didn’t often pay this much attention to her breasts, or let her be vocal in bed. He liked what he liked, and she happily submitted to his whims. But every once in a while, giving her what she wanted was worth it.

He let her nipple go with a popping sound, dragging his warm, wet mouth up and over the bruise on her neck. She gasped, her hand slipping between their bodies so she could wrap it around his slick length and guide it to her entrance. Henry growled as he pushed inside of her, her tight passage stretching to accommodate his girth. She whimpered and he slid his hand up; his fingers fit perfectly into the bright bruise on her neck. He squeezed gently.

“No more noise, Bella,” he commanded. She pressed her lips together and wrapped her arms around his shoulders obligingly, undulating beneath him as he began to thrust roughly into her, squeezing her throat hard enough to cut off her breath.

Her hands massaged the muscles in his back, urging him on. His free hand glided over her thigh; he drew it up over his hip so he could enter her more deeply. Her body grew taut and he released her throat gently, letting her breathe. She sucked in as much air as she could, but otherwise made no sound.

Henry kissed her mouth tenderly as he drove himself all the way into her repeatedly. “Do you feel that, Bella?” he asked hoarsely. “Of course you do. Now finish for me, honey.”

Immediately after he spoke, she clenched around him. He slipped his hand to the back of her neck, cupping it tightly as she drew him over the edge, her heavy breathing mingling with his own as he emptied himself inside her.

He let his forehead rest against hers as she threaded her fingers through his hair, kissing his lips over and over, his mustache tickling her face. “So obedient,” he crooned between kisses. “You’re a gift to me, Bella.”

“Yes, sir,” she sighed, twining her arms around his neck. He rolled over onto his back, cradling her against him and pulling the blanket up over their sweat-slicked bodies. She tucked her head under his chin, rubbing her nose against the hair on his chest. He liked sleeping with her against him. He always felt cold, but she kept him warm.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he said softly, rubbing his hands over her back. “We’ll deal with our meeting later.”

“Yes, sir,” she exhaled, her voice heavy.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Say my name, Bella,” he requested.

“Yes, Henry.”

Satisfied, he relaxed into the mattress, running his fingers up and down her spine slowly until she stilled against him. Only then did he allow himself to drift off.


End file.
